Page 54 of Embrace the Serpent

“Hurry,” he said to me.

I took the disc to the bottom of the stepwell. I checked the marks to make sure it was positioned exactly right, and then lowered the disc carefully into place. It settled with a soft click.

A rumble came from deep below. Behind his glasses, the shopkeeper’s eyes widened.

A trickle of water came, and then a rush, a flood, an amount that felt impossible, filling the square basin and lapping at my toes, my ankles, my calves.

I scrambled up the steps.

A lightness swelled in me as the water rose, expanding through my chest, radiating to my fingertips.

The old shopkeeper wiped his eyes and put his spectacles back on. He flung his bony arms around my shoulders, pressing whiskery kisses to my cheeks. “Bless you, child. You have saved us.”

A warmth blossomed in my chest. If I hadn’t run, I’d never have met these people. I’d never have helped them. I’d never have witnessed this pure, helpful kind of jewelsmithing.

“You don’t have to go,” he said. “Hide in the mountain pass until they go, and then stay here, with us.”

His eyes were so kind. This little village could be home.

11

I kicked a rock up the path. It rolled back down to my toes, and I gave it another kick.

The shopkeeper said I could take over one of the empty shops. They’d help me get on my feet, he’d said. They’d all love to have me there.

I was a fool to turn him down. Especially now that the Serpent King had released me from my deal with Rane. I was free. I could do whatever I wanted. I didn’t quite know what that was, but a jewelsmith in a little village sounded decent enough. But my insides had twisted up, guilt wringing me like a washcloth.

I glared at the figure marching fast up the road. The Serpent King acted like he didn’t see me, but he gave himself away when he turned his head the tiniest degree, just enough to show an ear and a bit of pointed cheekbone. He knew exactly where I was, probably to the number of paces that separated us.

“I made a deal,” I called. “I’m not going back on it.”

Without turning or breaking stride, he said, “I’m afraid there is no deal.”

I quickened my pace. “Look, maybe I jumped to conclusions.”

“Please, take the bleating of your conscience elsewhere.”

Rude. Still, perhaps a different tactic would work. “Rane made it sound like you really needed a jewelsmith.”

He went silent, his jaw working. “We’ll manage.”

A memory came to me, of the conversation between the Serpent King and Rane in the dark tent. The Serpent King hadn’t been sure about me then, and he still wasn’t. But Rane believed in me, and his face had been so earnest when he told me how important the job was. I owed it to Rane, I felt, to make his case.

“I don’t think you will,” I said quietly, keeping my gaze on the pebbles lining the dirt road.

The Serpent King’s dark laced boots kicked up small dust clouds with each step. Fifteen dust clouds later, he spoke. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

The knot in my stomach loosened.

The Serpent King fell silent, save for the occasional exasperated huff, the kind that belonged to beleaguered mothers waiting for their kid to finish peeing. Grimney hung half out of my pocket, pointing at every tenth rock on the ground, each time with the ecstatic enthusiasm of someone who’d never seen one. A bit of gravel got under my nails as I picked up the latest specimen. Grimney tucked it into my pocket with the others. My dress gave a short rip as several stitches snapped. “That’s your last one,” I hissed to him.

The Serpent King’s long legs ate up the distance, and I jogged to catch up.

He huffed as I neared.

I chewed my cheek. I shouldn’t ask. “We’re going to save the others, right?”

“You don’t even know them.”